


a pretty kind of dirty face

by Authoress



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ...sex at the pub, College AU, Eating out, Exhibitionism, Hair Pulling, M/M, Public Sex, Teasing, and by that i mean hinata eats kageyama out under a table, crosses self and prays to the virgin mary, dirty talking, drinks at the pub, pls don't try this irl oh my god, study abroad in england to be exact, trans boy kageyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/pseuds/Authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside his mind, Kageyama Tobio is screaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a pretty kind of dirty face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bigspoonnoya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigspoonnoya/gifts).



> how come every time i write sin each one is more sinful than the previous???
> 
> anyway. based on a twitter thread i started that anne enabled me to write, that resulted in a sin trade.
> 
> enjoy it you filthy animals.

 

It begins—as anything worthwhile does—with Hinata’s laugh.

Kageyama would like to think that after four years of exposure to Hinata’s laughter that he would be immune to it by now. He was immune to other things: Oikawa-san’s taunts, colds (idiots didn’t catch colds, Yachi’s smile (although that was kind of a lie), and even sleeping in class. Kageyama thought that by now he could stand a little sonorous sunshine from his best friend. Alas, Hinata’s laugh was not something to be ignored; it was packaged and stamped with his own brand of Hinata-like charm and spread to all corners of the room he was in.

Naturally, Hinata took up space. He had to compensate for his tiny stature somehow, and he chose to do that with a booming voice and an effervescent personality that shone through even the darkest shadows. He was Helios; the personification of the sun, the child of a titan—no, no, that titan was more like a small giant, and Hinata sprung from the cracked, lifeless concrete rather than a titaness mother, and—

And Kageyama was getting really, really fucking drunk.

He eyes his pint with mild suspicion. Had it always been so low? He doesn’t really remember drinking all that down. Another sly glance at Hinata confirms that Hinata’s glass is already empty and Hinata is leaning across the table, pawing at the friends they had made that were native to London, talking shit with them and from what Kageyama could tell, trying to bribe another drink out of them. The girl flicks Hinata off fondly and tells him to suck a dick with _affection_ in her voice.

Suddenly, they’re all looking at him. Kageyama blinks in surprise and tunes into the conversation fully, but as soon as he looks alert, all three of his companions burst into laughter and Hinata, next to him, claps him on the back.

“What?” Kageyama grumbles, feeling annoyed and out of the loop.

“Tobio…” Hinata snickers. “You just said ‘I don’t _have_ a dick’ in the most sour, _awful_ tone of voice, like Sam had personally offended you.” Hinata’s hand doesn’t leave Kageyama’s back, and it takes him a while to actually drag his sluggish mind back to the conversation when Hinata has a living heating pad pressed to his shoulder and is squeezing gently.

“Huh? _Oh_ ,” Kageyama squeaks, realizing what he had just implied. “That’s not—I don’t mean—”

“We get it,” their other friend laughs. “You totally want Shouyou to eat you out.”

“ _I don’t!_ ” Kageyama yelps, feeling as if the heat from Hinata’s hand had swept into his face, hot enough to make him feel dizzy.

“You are very drunk,” Sam snorts. “Scout, flag down the waitress, would you? Get poor Tobio some water before he passes out.”

Kageyama makes a sad sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a groan and drops his head to the table, prompting Hinata to pat his gently on the back a few more times, even rub his hand up and down a little. Kageyama pouts at him aggressively. “Why’re _you_ fine?” Kageyama grumbles. “You’re smaller than me.”

“Please, Tobio,” Hinata snorts. “I go out way more often than you. Also, I actually ate a snack on the bus tour and you haven’t eaten since lunch.” His hand slides to Kageyama’s head where he pets the strands with gentle reverence. ‘ _Soft_ ,’ he mouths. Half of Kageyama wants to snort with a _well, what did you expect?_ but the other, stronger half leans into the touch, allowing Hinata to press his hand closer.

Hinata scratches at his scalp, a disgustingly adoring look on his face as he ruffles Kageyama’s hair, leaving strands sticking up all over the place and generally making a mess of Kageyama’s typical composed look. Kageyama can’t find it in himself to care. Hinata combs his fingers and stubby nails down Kageyama’s skull and Kageyama watches and thinks about Hinata.

He watches the way the muscle on Hinata’s arm moves—heavier and more defined than Kageyama’s lithe form, but even more lovely to look at as it bunches and stretches with his hand and arm movements. Kageyama watches Hinata’s lips, the way they part when he takes a breath or murmurs something incomprehensible, a pink tongue occasionally darting out to wet them. Kageyama imagines he is both the oxygen drawn in and carbon dioxide breathed out, existing forever in that gap between the soft lines of Hinata’s mouth.

“You’re staring at my mouth,” Hinata says, amused. “If you want to kiss me so badly, you could just ask.” He’s being extra-fearless, the alcohol lending him bravery, but it doesn’t matter in this institution. Their friends snigger together at the two foreigners clearly so in love with each other that they’re blind to anyone else. None of the other patrons give a damn enough to cause them trouble.

“Food,” Kageyama says, anyway, mostly because he wants to be a little shit to Hinata, who is always a little shit to him. “I want food,” Kageyama growls louder. “Did we order any?”

Hinata’s eyes _sparkle_ with mirth, most likely at Kageyama’s expense, and Kageyama squints. He wonders if it’s socially acceptable to hate your boyfriend, just a little bit. Hinata’s going to have smile lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes when he’s old and his dimples will only become even more pronounced. His nose will still do the cute little bunching thing that Kageyama hates so much, and his eyes will still be just as alive as they were when Kageyama tossed for him the first time.

“We ordered while you had your nose buried in your pint,” Hinata explains. “I got you fish and chips.” Kageyama makes a face but doesn’t protest much. He knows he needs the food in order to try and counteract some of the alcohol he’s poisoned his system with.

“Here,” Scout nudges Kageyama’s cheek with something cold and wet that makes him jump a mile and dislodge Hinata’s hand from his head. Kageyama accepts the glass of water with only mild confusion, drinking when ordered to and practically draining it. A line of water escapes down his chin, and when he finally puts the glass down, he notices how Hinata’s eyes follow the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple and then the slowly running trail of water down his neck.

“You’re looking at my neck,” Kageyama mimics. “If you wanted to give me a hickey, you could have just asked.” He pauses. “Pervert.” There, perfect.

Scout and Sam howl with laughter, collapsing against each other in the booth across the table. Even Hinata breaks into a grin. “Kageyama Tobio,” Hinata declares, “you are a magnificent bastard.”

“Does that mean you’ll pat my head again?” Kageyama asks earnestly.

“No, Your Majesty, it doesn’t,” Hinata replies with a roll of the eyes, but by now the nickname doesn’t sting. In fact, the nickname—once the bane of Kageyama’s existence—had taken on new life, since in his third year Kageyama was known for his talent in taking care of each one of his spikers like loyal subjects, delivering them the best tosses, each tailored to their special needs. From a ‘solitary king’ to an ‘adored king.’ But Hinata doesn’t leave Kageyama hanging. He slides closer to his partner, their shoulders knocking, and leans into him affectionately. Hinata presses his palm to Kageyama’s, twining their fingers and curling their arms together.

Kageyama considers making some noise of protest, but the truth is that the feel of Hinata’s skin against Kageyama’s is nice, even if Hinata’s hands are just as warm as Kageyama and his palms sweat from the crowd of the bar and alcohol pumping through his veins. Scout makes a joke and Hinata laughs boldly, squeezing Kageyama’s hand just a little bit, probably without realizing it. Kageyama wants to join in the merriment with their friends, but unfortunately he’s too busy being glum about how in love he is with Hinata.

Hinata takes care of the rest of Kageyama’s beer, swiping his tongue across the rim of the glass and his lips to chase the last taste of alcohol before shaking his head turning back to the conversation. Kageyama wants to say he’s not staring, but he is, and it sucks. And he’s getting tired, too. Kageyama’s just started brainstorming ways to get Hinata to leave early instead of staying out late like he preferred to, when Hinata’s gaze slides to him. Their friends are…Kageyama doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but he does know that his throat goes dry at Hinata’s half-lidded eyes, the soft brown of his eyes lit with what looks like molten gold when the light catches his irises. Kageyama would know that look in a hundred years and a thousand lifetimes and a million universes away—it was the look Hinata gave him when he wanted to fuck.

The smile that grows on his face is too light and playful to fit the intensity of his gaze, and when he blinks his eyes are brown again, bright and cheerful as he replies to Sam and Scout. He leaves in his wake a Kageyama struck by lightning, all circuits shorted out as he replays over and over in his head the way Hinata looked at him, sized him up in such a public place, the only functional part of his brain a broken record player.

Hinata frees his hand from Kageyama’s and slings his arm around Kageyama’s shoulders. “Yeah, he’s quite the funny guy, huh?” Hinata chirps in response to what the others were saying. “Sometimes he looks really scary but it’s all a farce, you know? In reality he’s just a socially awkward and technologically backwards dork who isn’t really good with people.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Kageyama snaps, defending himself.

“It’s okay,” Hinata assures him. “I think it’s really cute. I think _you’re_ really cute.”

“Gaaaay,” Sam calls, snorting. Her phone buzzes and she checks it, making a face. “Shit, it’s our roommates. You two be quiet,” she orders, pointing at Hinata and Kageyama before taking the call.

Hinata makes a noise of agreement, a strange smile fixed on his face. His arm slides from Kageyama’s shoulders to around his waist and he shifts his position, propping himself up higher by tucking one leg underneath his body. He’s uncharacteristically silent, the type to try and distract someone on a cellphone, no matter how important the call. He’s up to something. Kageyama feels hot and dizzy very quickly, and it’s not completely the alcohol’s fault this time.

Under normal circumstances he might have seen Hinata’s hand creeping towards him under the table, but as he is now, Kageyama has trouble focusing on things that aren’t either his water glass or Hinata’s face. When Hinata’s hand rests on top of his thigh, gentle but burning through his sweats, Kageyama jolts.

There’s a laugh in his ear, _oh god Hinata is right there next to him_ , and the telltale puff of Hinata’s breath against his earlobe sends shivers down Kageyama’s spine. “Someone’s a little tense,” Hinata breathes. “What, you anxious?”

“What are you up to?” Kageyama growls, low to avoid attracting the attention of their companions across the table. Hinata’s fingers spread out across Kageyama’s leg and he makes an agitated grunt.

“Up to? Am I up to something, Tobio?” Hinata asks innocently. His stubby nails scratch along the fabric, bumping over the seams in Kageyama’s pants. He strokes up and down Kageyama’s thigh, teasingly slow. Kageyama wants to bite him.

“You’re drunk,” he hisses. “We’re both drunk. This is a _public place_.” Hinata shifts again with a small sigh and Kageyama actually _looks_ at him, jumping a foot again when he sees that Hinata is _hard_ , probably has been for a while. He’s on the aisle of their booth—if a waiter came by and looked down—then—

“So you finally noticed,” Hinata purrs. “Mmm…you know, it doesn’t bother me that someone could see. In fact, I want them to see. Imagine the look on their faces—disgust, embarrassment, maybe they’ll feel a little turned on, too. It’s so _good_.” He straightens the leg he’s not sitting on a little, exposing more of his crotch, and Kageyama makes a panicked, aborted motion to stop him.

Hinata’s grip tightens around Kageyama’s thigh, freezing him in place. Kageyama uses whatever brain power he has left to focus on _not focusing on_ the thumb edging towards the inside of his thigh. Kageyama bites his lip. Hinata’s laughs breathlessly, dark and soft. “Not as unaffected as you’d like to pretend,” he murmurs. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

Kageyama doesn’t respond, but his breathing stutters when Hinata slowly traces his hand around the curve of Kageyama’s thigh, brushing inside his leg casually. It’s a battle to keep his face composed at all, and actually, he’s pretty sure he’s making a horribly intense expression of concentration. His suspicions are confirmed when Hinata snorts softly in amusement. “Ease up,” Hinata coaxes him, thumb sweeping up, up his leg closer to _there_ with every stroke, and Kageyama is so _hot_ he feels like his entire _body_ is sweating.

“Let yourself go, baby, it’ll be okay,” Hinata assures him, but how can Kageyama do that when he can still make out Scout and Sam’s facial expressions as they talk to their roommates on the phone? “Just…” Hinata whispers in his ear. “Give yourself to me.” Hinata swipes his thumb down, down below the drawstring of Kageyama’s sweatpants, pressing against his crotch and making Kageyama flinch with a soft gasp, squeezing his thighs around Hinata’s hand, trapping him there.

He shoots Hinata a watery glare, curling his body over the table. Hinata blinks innocently. “Of course,” Hinata says at a normal volume. “If you don’t like that, I can always—” He yanks his hand from between Kageyama’s legs and Kageyama _mourns_ the warmth desperately. “—Leave you on your own,” Hinata finishes, slipping his other leg back under the table.

“No!” Kageyama barks, grabbing for his wrist.

“Shhh!” Sam hisses at them from across the table and Kageyama gives her a wide-eyed look of panic that makes her roll her eyes. _So they didn’t know yet._

Hinata taps his chin thoughtfully. “I’m getting a lot of mixed signals here, Tobio,” Hinata sighs, refusing to move his hand any closer to Kageyama.

“W…wan’ you t…” Kageyama mutters, gluing his eyes to the table.

“I can’t hear you,” Hinata says in a singsong voice. Lower he, says, “Tell me _exactly_ what it is you want.”

Kageyama grits his teeth but leans across their space pressing his mouth to Hinata’s ear and snarling, “I want you to touch me, you filthy, horrible _boyfriend_.” He pulls back enough to really glare at Hinata, but Hinata’s unfazed, wearing a lazy, satisfied grin. He kisses Kageyama lightly, just the press of their lips together once.

“All you had to do was ask,” he purrs, and his hand slips back between Kageyama’s thighs. Kageyama tenses instinctually when Hinata palms him, but Hinata tuts his disapproval. “Nuh-uh, Tobio. Keep your legs spread. You look so hot like that, surrendering to me. Really turns me on.”

Kageyama warps a whine into a weak, strangled noise that barely escapes past his lips, but obeys. He wants to please Hinata when he gets like this. Hinata knows what to do to get Kageyama off, knows exactly what makes him tick, makes him feel like Hinata’s hands know him better than he does. He’ll do anything to get Hinata to do him the way he likes.

The scratching of Hinata’s nails on the fabric is _lewd_ and Kageyama can _hear_ it, shooting anxious glances at their companions and around the bar, but no one else seems to give a fuck that Hinata is about to get his boyfriend off in public. Kageyama sweats, fighting down the rise of his hips and twitching of his thighs, but Hinata is nothing if not an awful tease, wanting to push Kageyama to his limits before moving things to the next level.

“You feel as hot as you look, Tobio,” Hinata groans into Kageyama’s shoulder. “It’s so humid…are you wet enough to soak through your panties _and_ your sweats? Wow, how _dirty_.”

Kageyama can’t think of an immediate response when Hinata is _petting_ him, but he finally manages through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you stop playing around and find out for yourself?” He snaps quietly.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hinata whispers cheerfully, and Kageyama only has time to think _oh shit, maybe I shouldn’t have_ — before Hinata slides his hand down the inside of Kageyama’s pants to press against his panties, rubbing against the swollen skin just below the fabric, and he makes a tiny delighted noise to match Kageyama’s whine.

“Oh, baby, you are _soaked_ ,” Hinata breathes. “How disgusting, how _slutty_ of you to want me to touch you somewhere where anyone could see us, where even our friends could see us. God, look at you—do you want me so much that you’ve lost control of your body?” He runs his middle finger over the top of Kageyama’s clit and Kageyama practically convulses, fighting to keep his legs from closing. He squeezes his eyes shut and draws in breath through his nose.

“I can’t— _nnnggggg_ ,” Kageyama manages to get out with a tiny groan. His thighs tighten just a little as Hinata continues to stroke the same spot over and over again, watching Kageyama’s reactions with rapt attention.

“Can’t what? Use your words, dear,” Hinata says breezily, pressing hard against him and making him mewl.

There’s a polite cough. And even through the combination of their lustful and drunken hazes, Kageyama and Hinata manage to register the emotion _oh shit_.

“…Alright, well,” Scout says, and it becomes glaringly obvious to Hinata and Kageyama that their friends are off the phone. “We will…be at the bar, if you need anything.” He doesn’t look them in the eye and it’s _awful_.

“I don’t think they will need anything,” Sam whispers to Scout, whose face contorts in an attempt not to giggle. They shoot the two boys amused looks before slipping out of the booth and making their way to the actual bar, easily extricating themselves from the stricken atmosphere between the two pairs.

Kageyama is floored. More than floored, he’s utterly shocked because those were _knowing_ glances, they _knew_ what he and Hinata were…and Hinata’s hand is still down his pants. “Oops,” Hinata says thoughtfully, watching their friends go.

“ _Get your hand out of my pants_ ,” Kageyama hisses, face burning. Hinata does as bidden. Kageyama takes a moment to send a prayer up to whoever was listening that the back of the bar was dark and fairly empty. He probably would have been more humiliated, but their friends were accustomed to drunk shenanigans and would probably dismiss it as such in the morning. Also, Kageyama and Hinata had witnessed a couple who had been trying to have sex in the back get kicked out the other day, so they weren’t the only offenders.

Kageyama groans loudly and unsexily, slumping against the booth and pouting. It wasn’t fucking fair. “I was getting close, too,” he whines, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “Now I’m stuck like—like _this_ , and you can’t even finish what you started.”

He waits for the telltale snort of amusement and chipper “you’re so nasty; watch your mouth, Tobio!” that usually followed a statement like that (not like Hinata didn’t spew absolute filth when they had sex and never _shut up_ ), but Hinata is quiet. In fact, when Kageyama glances to the side, he finds Hinata sliding down in the booth, as if trying to disappear below the table. Had he really been so embarrassed? That wasn’t usually like him; Hinata had an exhibitionist streak a mile wide that Kageyama had to rein in more often than not.

“Shouyou? It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Kageyama calls, mildly annoyed that he has to comfort Hinata when _he’s_ the one still aching and wet, but Kageyama is nothing if not a good boyfriend. “You don’t have to…why are you under the table? This is ridiculous.”

Everything seems a little less ridiculous when he feels twin hands on his knees, still spread apart, and bright eyes barely peeking up at him from beneath the shadows of the table.

The blood drains from Kageyama’s face. “Shou…Shou, _no_ , you can’t—” He casts a wary glace around him, but their waiter isn’t back yet. “We will get _kicked out_.”

Hinata rests his head against Kageyama’s thigh. “But I feel bad,” he murmurs. “I teased you like hell, embarrassed you in front of our friends, and now I’m sure you’re painfully turned on without anyone to help you.” His voice is heartbreakingly sincere.

“I can always…get off in the bathroom…” Kageyama suggests, although the thought of doing something like that in a no-doubt filthy bathroom makes him wrinkle his nose in disgust.

Hinata grip tightens on his knees. “No!” Hinata says, raising his voice. Kageyama furiously shushes him, but Hinata is still shaking his head. “Not without me. You don’t get off without me.”

 _Well, fuck._ Kageyama scowls to hide the rapid thump of his heart. “Well, what do you suggest, then?”

The smile that greets him is blinding. “Eat you out, of course! That’s what you were thinking about earlier, right?”

Inside his mind, Kageyama Tobio is screaming. He screams and screams and hates the way his hips jerk forward a little at the suggestion. _I hate you,_ he tells his body. _I really fucking hate you, also shouldn’t I be too old to be this horny?_ He hates that Hinata’s pupils dilates and he’s getting excited by the thought that Kageyama will let him do this, hates that he didn’t shut the idea down completely, hates that they aren’t in their dorm room right now, hates that Hinata loves eating him out so much.

Okay, so the last one is a lie. Kageyama swallows. “You better be fucking quiet,” he growls.

Hinata smirks. “ _You_ be quiet,” he counters, and nestles his way further between Kageyama’s thighs.

“ _God_ ,” Kageyama chokes out, sliding his hips forward so Hinata’s mess of orange hair and _dead giveaway_ doesn’t make it into the dim lighting of the bar. Kageyama’s so tense with anxiety, wound up tight enough that his thighs are iron under Hinata’s soft hands. Hinata sighs.

“Loosen up, baby,” Hinata coaxes. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, so, _so_ good you’ll dream about it…”

“I dream about you all the time,” Kageyama retorts through gritted teeth, glaring a hole in the wall in front of him in an effort not to die just thinking about what Hinata was going to do. “Do you have any idea how inconvenient it is to wake up every other night soaking wet?”

The fluff of red-orange quivers as Hinata laughs, smothering the sound with his hand. “Are you going to let me dirty talk you, or be a grump the entire time I touch you?” Kageyama makes a noncommittal strained noise. “Come on, come on…there you go, I’m here with you now, that’s right…” Hinata massages Kageyama’s thighs, rubbing and squeezing along the muscles, encouraging Kageyama to loosen up his stiff stance with the warmth of his hands. It works like a charm. With every pass of his hands moving higher and higher, Kageyama becomes pliant as clay in his hands.

(Kageyama will never admit that it wasn’t so much the touch—although that was a wonderful added bonus—but rather Hinata’s words, his voice. The words ‘come on’ in Hinata’s mouth have only one context: sex. It’s what he chants when Kageyama rides him, shifting from slow to fast and hard _come on, come on Tobio_ or when he wants to hear Kageyama while he pressing into him, full and hot and all Kageyama can do is bend to Hinata’s will when he’s so content, whispers of _that’s it, baby, come on **come on**_ in his ear…)

Hinata doesn’t stop touching him. He kisses Kageyama’s sweatpants-clad thighs, a feeling that would be tender and send tiny shots of pleasure straight to Kageyama’s crotch, but with the thickness of the fleece between them, the sensation is muted. Disappointing. Kageyama doesn’t say anything, but he also _doesn’t say anything_ , which is probably why Hinata gets this wicked little smile on his face before he turns his mouth back to Kageyama’s sweats and nips him hard.

Kageyama makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a strangled mewl because Hinata is _so close, so damn close_ to his crotch, dragging his teeth along Kageyama’s inner thighs and pinching at the skin with tiny bites through his pants. Kageyama’s thighs jerk together a little and he swears at the involuntary motion, digging his fingers into his arms and biting his bottom lip to keep from moving or saying or doing anything besides sit there and pretend to be a rule-abiding patron of the bar.

There’s a laugh from under the table, rough and breathy. “Good boy,” Hinata whispers, and pulls his drawstring undone with his teeth.

Sometimes, Kageyama sits back and makes a concentrated effort to determine whether he’s been blessed or cursed with Hinata—as a partner, as a best friend, as a boyfriend. Because although Hinata was the first one in his life to teach him what perfect synchronization felt like in the smack of a volleyball hitting a hand and in the shine of brilliant eyes peering into his, the light of dawn turning them both gold with a whispered _good morning_ , he’s also the one who drives him up the wall with ridiculous training regimens that force them both to their limits and with the feeling of _fingers_ too close but not close enough, shoving the front of his pants down so he can have Kageyama the way he likes best, the way they both like best.

Now, however, is not the time for focused thinking when Hinata is eyeing him up hungrily, not even _glancing_ up at Kageyama’s face (Hinata loves to see him blush and Kageyama is blushing hard, but he won’t look away from Kageyama’s panties). Hinata tilts his head to the side just a bit, and then grinds the heel of his hand against the wet patch in Kageyama’s panties.

Kageyama jolts forward, a-fucking-gain, but this time he can’t keep himself from grinding back into Hinata’s palm and closing his legs around Hinata’s shoulders. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses, forehead against the table and becoming closely acquainted with the chipped wood of the table. Worse, Hinata is _still_ laughing.

“Oh man, Tobio,” Hinata whispers. “Oh man, I want you so bad right now.” Kageyama grinds his back teeth together so the mental screaming doesn’t become verbal screaming.

“You can’t just—”A lack of words to describe what he’s feeling seems to be an unfortunate trend this evening, and Kageyama bites his tongue gently in frustration.

But maybe he truly is blessed with Hinata, because there’s a noise of understanding from beneath the table and Hinata murmurs softly, “It’s okay whatever you do from here on out—quiet, loud, touching me, not touching me, whatever. And you’ll probably need this.” He lifts each of Kageyama’s thighs onto his shoulders, Kageyama hooking his ankles together out of muscle memory. He wants to ask why, but then Hinata’s tongue presses against his slit through his panties and he just holds on.

(Onto his arms, digging his nails in to keep himself anchored to reality. Onto his tongue, by keeping his jaw snapped shut tight, only allowing wordless whines to escape. Onto his sanity, because his world was rapidly, rapidly shrinking down to a place between his thighs and under Hinata’s mouth.)

He can feel his thighs tremble the steady, slow way they do when Hinata teases him, giving him just a little preview of what he can do for Kageyama but not nearly enough sensation to get him off. Hinata’s lapping is long and slow; Kageyama can _feel_ his head moving between his legs and it makes his stomach flip. And then he has to do _that_ —that flicker of tongue pressing hard against his opening, making Kageyama squeeze his eyes shut tightly and grit his teeth until his entire jaw aches.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Oh no. _Oh no._

Even Hinata draws away at the voice of a third party and Kageyama prays to every god of every religion that it really _is_ dark enough that the waiter can’t see Hinata from where Kageyama is leaning over the table. He prays that the shadows conceal the utter _sin_ of what they’re getting up to, thanking his semi-voluntary bodily responses that he had even thought to flop over the table in the first place. He un-cements his teeth and manages to sputter weakly at the waiter.

“Er…are you alright?” The kid probably isn’t even a day over nineteen, working absurdly long hours and getting paid minimum wage and shitty tips, and he does not deserve to deal with two patrons well on their way to third base. Kageyama will take one for the team and preserve this poor sap’s innocence.

“’M fine. A little sick,” he grinds out. He hopes the kid will _go away_ , but he’s still standing there, fidgeting, trying to be helpful.

“Can I…can I get you—” He stutters.

“ _Water_ ,” Kageyama hisses. “A refill of water.” _And then leave me alone,_ he implies with a glare. The kid’s hand shakes a little as he pours more water into Kageyama’s glass from the pitcher he was already holding, but the glare does the trick and he scurries off.

 _Will I ever be able to get off in peace?_ Kageyama thinks mournfully.

There’s a beat of nothing between him and Hinata, heartrates calming just a little, then Hinata is fumbling at the front of his panties. Kageyama swiftly leans back to do _something_ , stop him, probably, but his hands end up fisted tight in Hinata’s hair, making him moan, and suddenly Kageyama has no idea what to do.

Hinata has an idea of what to do. He peeks up at Kageyama. “No more teasing,” he says. “I go down on you for real, before anyone else bothers us. Good?”

Half of Kageyama wants to point out that they were _just_ bothered, but the other half of Kageyama knows he can’t pass up a deal like that. “Good,” he breathes.

“I’ll make it better than good,” Hinata promises, making Kageyama’s fingers go numb and loosen their grip in Hinata’s hair a bit as Hinata pulls the panties down and really reveals Kageyama to the world. The air is cold and nerve-wracking against him when he’s so hot and adrenaline-filled from his encounter with the waiter.

“You said you wouldn’t tease,” he mumbles, but Hinata isn’t paying attention to him.

“You shaved,” he murmurs. Kageyama glances down, then immediately away, face red.

“O-Oh, yeah. I, um.” Kageyama is great at sentences.

Hinata’s not looking so subdued and focused anymore, the smile returning to his face. “Oh, Tobio. I was taunting you before, but were you really thinking nasty things earlier? Nasty things about me?” He runs a finger over the prickly hairs. “You never shave unless you want my mouth on you, even though I told you it doesn’t matter. Is that what you want, Tobio? Do you want me to do you here, then in our dorm, for hours? I’ll do it all night if you really want.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Kageyama rasps. “I don’t care—Shouyou I _don’t care_ , just please—”

Hinata blows a puff of cool air against Kageyama’s sensitive skin and Kageyama gasps loudly, hands tightening in Hinata’s hair again. “Show me, babe,” Hinata orders. “Show me exactly what you want me to do.”

Kageyama does.

He grinds against Hinata’s mouth while pulling him down, wet on wet, hot meeting hot. His legs squeeze around Hinata’s head and he throws his head back, panting with his mouth open as Hinata goes for his clit immediately, keeping his promise of no more teasing. Hinata drags his tongue around the sensitive tissue, across it, dipping down into his opening and drawing Kageyama’s own wetness to mix with Hinata’s saliva. Each brush of his tongue over Kageyama’s clit has his thighs shake in violent bursts, tightening further and further the closer he gets to orgasm.

Kageyama pulls at his hair in time with the shaking, making Hinata moan against his crotch, the vibrations sending shockwaves up Kageyama’s spine. Everything is a mess of heat and sensation and literal mess, since Hinata’s enthusiasm in eating Kageyama out meant he got saliva and wetness all over his face and parts of Kageyama’s thighs. Kageyama can’t escape the rhythm he set, getting swept up in grinding against Hinata and Hinata diving to meet him, buried deep enough in him that Kageyama could only see his nose and eyes closed in concentration.

Finally Hinata sucks on him, pulling Kageyama into his mouth once, twice, three times and then Kageyama curls forward for the last time, his entire body wracked with shivers. He releases his grip on Hinata almost immediately after coming down from his high, but Hinata chases after, licking at him until he’s oversensitive and whimpering, pushing at Hinata’s mess of hair. He’s satisfied but still so fucking _wet_ , shifting uncomfortably in his panties when Hinata releasing him, climbing back up from under the table, smiling brightly.

Kageyama looks at him with the same amazement as when Hinata told him _you toss just fine to me_ and with the same unflinchingly honest adoration as when Hinata curled into him this morning, clinging to him and whining about not wanting to go to class. “You’re a goddamn monster,” Kageyama sighs.

Hinata winks at him, which somehow manages to be unbearably cute despite the stickiness coating his lips and chin, even the tip of his nose. Kageyama doesn’t know how _that_ got there. “Wipe your face, moron,” Kageyama chides, handing him a napkin. Hinata does as bidden, still grinning.

“Did you like it?” He asks eagerly.

“I came in your mouth,” Kageyama replies drily. “Of course I liked it.”

“Good!” Hinata chirps. “Man, I’m hungry. Even though it’s called ‘eating out’ it sure does make you hungry. I better eat a lot of dinner if I’m going to do you some more tonight. Oh, there’s our food!” Kageyama sputters helplessly at Hinata’s side.

With the food returns their friends who don’t say a thing, but give the color on Kageyama’s face and the even-messier-than-usual state of Hinata’s hair a long look. They do, however, comment on how enthusiastically Hinata scoffs down the fish and chips, asking if he always ate like that, and Kageyama has to resist the urge to say _yeah, you have no idea._

 

**Author's Note:**

> these are my oc's scout and sam they're like regular oc's except they're my qp's/


End file.
